Night Troubles
by GreenMartini
Summary: Draco is fast asleep one night when his daughter comes in and tells him “something bad happened”. What happens trying to get to St. Mungo’s?


Summary: Draco is fast asleep one night when his daughter comes in and tells him "something bad happened". What happens trying to get to St. Mungo's?

Author's Note/Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its related insignias, characters, plot lines or anything else that you recognize or could sue me for. I do however own the characters of Tryna and Taylor. This story was written purely for fun. The plot sprung from an idea that I had while listening to music. If any of it offends, let me know in a review, or just review for the fun of it if you wish. They give me an incentive to write more fanfictions. Let's get on with the story shall we?

Rating: K+

Date Written: 7/16/06

Title: NIGHT TROUBLES

The manor was quiet, not unnaturally quiet, but a serene setting for the four occupants of the house, all of which were in their respectable rooms enjoying the comforts that the night had to offer. In the west wing of the manor, a little girl pulled her deep purple comforter further up her small frame in an attempt to shut out the cold that seeped through the tiniest gaps of her family's old manor.

A particularly strong gust of wind from the raging blizzard outside blew open her window and she pulled the thick blanket completely over her as she curled into a little ball. A small brown forlorn teddy bear was wrapped up in her embrace. A permanent smile rested just below his plastic nose, and the bear looked about the darkness with one still-intact black eye. If the small bear had an eardrum with which to hear, his gnawed up ears would have heard the breaking of a ceramic piece in the adjacent room. His stuffing was drastically rearranged from his stomach to his head as his caretaker sat bolt upright in bed out of fear of the sudden sound.

Scrambling out of her bed, the young girl ran out of the door with the bear swinging in the air behind her. Opening the door to her brother's room, she quickly padded over to his bed. He was sitting up in his bed with tears streaming down his face. His hand was pressed against the side of his head, a small red stream running down his head behind his ear, staining his platinum blonde hair that he inherited from his father.

He looked up when the door creaked open and the bright light from the hallway illuminated the room. One look at his sister's retreating steps told him exactly what she was going to do. "No, please don't get Dad! He'll make me go…_there_," he pleaded.

With wide eyes the young girl looked over her brother, taking in his disheveled clothing from a normal night of tossing and turning, and his messed up hair that was slowly turning red on one side. Finally looking him in the eye, she worried her bottom lip between her teeth before sprinting in the direction of their parents' room.

Running down the hallways with only the waning moon's light to guide proved to be rather simple considering that she had run down these hallways many times. The young girl opened the door to her parents' room and climbed up onto the bed, which proved to be a climb for her because it was so high above the ground. She crawled over on her hands and knees to her father.

"Daddy, Daddy wake up, please," she said reaching out and shaking his thin shoulder. Her father just shrugged his shoulder and went on with his dreams. Apparently, his young daughter wasn't ready to give up with her task. "Dad! Wake up! Dis is important!" she said shaking his shoulder more persistently.

"Tryna, what is it?" Her father said rolling over onto his back. His white-blonde hair was tousled from his feather stuffed pillow and his gray eyes opened wearily to look at his daughter.

"You have to come here!" Tryna said, her sandy-blonde hair coming out of its holder from her long run.

"Dear, it can wait until the morning. Go back to your room and get some sleep," her father said wearily, placing his hand on her cheek and stroking it with his thumb.

"Draco, what's going on?" Tryna's mother said sitting up, her dark hair framing her sleep-flushed face.

"Nothing, Pans. Tryna's worried about showing me something, that's all," Draco said offhandedly.

"No! I don't want to show you anything! You got to come, now!" She said grabbing Draco's hand and tugging insistently.

"_What_ do you need to show me, Tryna?" Draco asked sitting up on the edge of the bed and pulling her into his lap.

"It's Tay…" Tryna mumbled.

Draco's eyes shot open. "What happened to Taylor?"

"Idunno," She mumbled quickly avoiding her father's gaze.

"What did you see?" He persisted.

"A broken toy and Tay was bleeding," she said quietly.

Not bothering to add another phrase to the small conversation, Draco placed Tryna on the bed and ran from the room.

As Draco's footsteps could be heard scurrying down the halls towards the west wing, Pansy stood up and walked over to her daughter.

"Well, I suppose we should go supervise the war," she said handing the careworn teddy bear to her daughter, who had left it on the side of the bed in her haste to wake her father.

Tryna nodded slowly, taking the bear as she walked beside her mother out of the room. Yells could be heard echoing throughout the halls. A loud scream told Pansy that Draco had found Taylor and the boy was probably running through the halls trying to avoid being caught by his father.

As if on cue Taylor came bounding down the hallway toward the two and hid behind his mother. His father was close on his heel and he spotted his son clinging to his wife, the legendary Malfoy smirk tainting his face.

Slowly, like a cat hunting a mouse, Draco stalked forward towards his prey. Taylor peered around his mother's legs and looked at his father with challenging eyes. The blood from the gash on the side of Taylor's head had begun to wet the collar of his shirt, but the little boy was determined to stay as far away from _that place_ as he possibly could.

Pansy peeled her son's arms from about her legs and walked over to the wall, leaving Taylor open for grabs in the middle of the hallway. As Taylor gave his mother a disbelieving stare, Draco sprung forward and grabbed his son about the waist.

Instantly, Taylor began thrashing to get away from his father. His arms and legs were flinging everywhere trying to free himself from the firm grip that held him. His elbow made contact with his father's jaw with a sharp _smack_. Taylor landed unsteadily on his feet when his father let him go. Quickly he scrambled away before turning to look at his father. This was not going to be good.

Draco stood stock still. His jaw was set and his hands were fisted at his side. His eyebrows were forked and his eyes were shut. Without another word to the other three, he turned on his heel and walked the opposite direction.

"Taylor, if you're not going to go to the hospital, go to my room so we can get a wet rag to stop the bleeding," Pansy said, walking over to her seemingly petrified son.

A quarter hour later, Taylor had been released from his mother's makeshift hospital on the edge of her bathtub. He had been told before he was released that the gash on his head shouldn't bleed anymore, but it still needed to be closed up.

Slowly, he made his way towards the study in the main branch of the manor. A house elf had told them that his father was residing there. He opened the door to the study, the door not making a sound on its well-oiled hinges. His father sat with his arms folded across his chest with his feet propped up on the cocktail table in front of the couch.

Taylor cast his eyes downward when he saw a bruise forming on his father's jaw. The steam coming off the cup of tea in his hands made him realize why his mother had made him go to the kitchen and get the cup before coming in here. Up in her bedroom, he hadn't realized why he was told to retrieve it, even after stating that he did not want one. Realization snapped at him when he figured out that the tea was a sort of peace offering for his father.

Wordlessly, Taylor walked over next to the couch and held out the cup for his father to take. Draco made no move to take the cup, but rather continued to stare at the burning hearth. With a small sigh, Taylor set the steaming cup on the end table next to his father and walked to the other side of the couch, choosing to take the path between the hearth and the cocktail table.

Taylor curled up on the couch, laying his head in his father's lap. "Dad?" he inquired quietly. He wanted to know whether or not his dad was mad at him. Draco lifted a hand and placed it on his son's small shoulder. "What's wrong, Tay?"

"My head hurts."

"I guess it would. How bad is it?" Draco said and Taylor turned his head so his father could see the gash. "It doesn't look that bad."

"Mom said that it still has to be fixed," Taylor said regretfully; he really didn't want to go _there_.

"Well, it does have to be closed. Do you want to go to St. Mungo's and have it fixed?" Draco asked quietly.

Taylor sat up, crossing his legs and looking up at his father with sad eyes. He really did not want to go, but his headache was starting to make him feel sick. With a resolute sigh, Taylor shook his head. "Can we go somewhere else?"

"Where do you want to go?"

"Somewhere, just not St. Mungo's," Taylor mumbled.

"Okay, we will go to Neacel Hospital. Let us go find your mother and let her know our change in plans," Draco said getting to his feet, his son following suit.

The two of them found Pansy fast asleep on Tryna's bed; Tryna curled up in a ball next to her. Their outlines could be seen perfectly as they attempted to cut out the cold with the thick purple comforter.

"I guess we will just leave her a note," He said summoning up a piece of parchment and, writing with his wand, inscribed the words: 'We will be at Neacel' and left the small slip on the nightstand.

Draco walked over and took Taylor into his arms. "Just relax, Tay, I'll be there with you the whole time."

The waiting room of the hospital was full of men and women, each of which had a different malady than the one before him. Draco and Taylor sat in a chair in the corner of the waiting room. Taylor had his arms around his father's neck, clinging to him as if his life depended on it. Draco on the other hand, was threatening to dose off. He had worked for eighteen hours before hand and was looking towards a good night of sleep, but circumstances that were beyond his control had led him to only get a measly two hours of rest.

Taylor had begun shaking and his stomach was churning as he dared to look around at the other patrons of the waiting room.

Draco started running his hand up and down the boy's back in a vain attempt to get the boy to settle down. "Taylor, calm down. You're fine, and I'm here. Nothing's hurting you. Relax," Draco cooed to his younger child. True, the children were twins, but Taylor would always be his youngest.

"I'm f-fine," the little boy said in a shaky voice.

"Mr. Malfoy," the receptionist said walking over to talk to Draco.

Draco looked up at her. "Yes?"

"Do either of you need anything?"

Draco looked down at his son who had silent tears welling up in his eyes. "Actually, I have a favor to ask of you."

"And what would that be?" The receptionist asked sweetly.

"My son dislikes hospitals. I was wondering if we might be able to sit outside so that he's not so, scared."

"You most certainly can. I'll come outside and fetch you two when it's time for him to go back," she said smiling warmly.

"Thank you," Draco said before she walked over to another group that was waiting. "Come on, bud," Draco said to Taylor who held on tighter (if it was possible) to his father's neck.

Draco welcomed the cool night air as a wake up call just as he would a cold shower. With Taylor in his arms, Draco walked around, welcoming the dim lights from the windows of St. Mungo's. The company that was hired to clear the snow had done their job well, Draco noted, as he looked around at the cleared sidewalks and outdoor seating.

Taylor let out a small sniff and Draco made him move away slightly. "Tay, we're outside now, it's okay," He said looking into his son's gray eyes. The sensation was like that of seeing into a looking glass, but using it as a correlation between the past and the present.

Taylor shook his head from side to side in a disagreement with his father's statement. "It's not okay…" he said quietly.

Spotting a bench up against the building, Draco walked over and placed Taylor down on the weathered wood. "Taylor, look at me," he said putting his hands on either side of his son's small face, kneeling down in front of him. Taylor's eyes evaded his father's by watching cars drive by on the interstate beyond, tears running down his flushed cheeks. "Taylor, please, you're not in trouble," Draco said, brushing away his son's tears.

Taylor looked into his father's eyes. He tried to stop his tears from flowing, but the harder he tried to stop, the easier the tears came.

"Tay, I just want to know something. Why do you hate hospitals so much?" When all he received was a frightened look, Draco moved his hand down to his son's shoulders. "I just want to know why. I'm not going to tell anyone or yell at you about it."

"I-I don't like hospitals, b-bec-cause…" Taylor started in a shaky voice.

"Go ahead," Draco said lightly, trying to get his son to tell him what was bothering him.

"Uncle S-Sev d-died in a, a hospital," the small boy stuttered, shaking slightly.

Draco's mouth fell open slightly; he had completely forgotten that Taylor had been with him when he went to visit his Uncle Severus two years ago. He did not realize that the small occurrence had affected his son so much.

With a sigh Draco pulled Taylor back into his arms. "Listen to me. Uncle Sev didn't die because he went to the hospital; he died because someone hurt him really badly." It was not a lie, but rather a vague way to explain what had happened to his late uncle.

Taylor gazed up at him with a questioning expression. "R-really?"

"Yes, sometimes people go to the hospital and they're too hurt for the people at the hospital to do anything." When Taylor's eyes widened, Draco hastily added, "You're going to be fine. Yours is a small injury; you'll be home by breakfast."

Taylor smiled and rested his head on his father's shoulder, hoping he could get rid of his headache soon. He looked up at the sky as the very first lights of the morning sun shattered the beautiful darkness of the night. "Dad," he said quietly.

"Hm?" Draco inquired, not wanting to break the relaxed atmosphere between him and his son.

"Tonight was full moon; we missed it," he said sounding sleepy.

"Well, I guess that explains our crazy night, doesn't it?"

Taylor just grinned at Draco; his mood lifting as the receptionist walked through the doors to come get them.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please to remember to review, I need encouragement to keep this thing going. 


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